Another Name For Salvation
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: Godric is not himself after Salazar leaves. Rowena hopes to change that.:: for Anna


_For Anna, via oneshot exchange_

* * *

_"Maybe love was meant to save us from ourselves."_

_-R.M. Drake_

* * *

"Is he not coming down for breakfast?" Rowena asks when she takes her seat in the Great Hall.

It's bad enough that Salazar's seat has been empty for the past week. Godric has become more and more withdrawn, and now he's missing as well. Rowena wants to scream, but the hall is full of students attempting to eat their breakfast in peace. Screaming would only worry them and possibly plunge the school into a little more chaos.

"He wasn't here for dinner last night," Helga adds before taking a bite of her food. She chews silently, but Rowena can tell she has much more to say. When she swallows, she launches back into her concerns. "I think he might have slept in Salazar's bed chamber as well."

It isn't surprising. Godric and Salazar have been as close as brothers. Although Salazar's abandonment hurts her, she cannot imagine the agony Godric must feel.

She doesn't speak. Helga's words hang in the air, and all Rowena can do is frown and stare at her goblet of untouched wine. What is she supposed to say? It breaks her heart that Salazar is gone and Godric is hurting, but she can't do much about it. Emotions are not her strong suit. She can offer him logical promises about how bad times never last, but she isn't sure she can do much else.

Rowena lifts her goblet to her lips, sipping the sweet wine. "All we can do is wait."

…

And they wait, hoping that Godric will come around and everything will go back to normal. At first, Rowena can almost convince herself that everything is okay. Even though Godric continues to stay in his chambers during meals–Helga has talked to the house-elves in the kitchens, and they've confirmed that Godric is still eating, though it isn't much–he can still be found around the castle.

She catches glimpses of him in the corridors, hurrying to and from. His classes continue, and the students maintain that his are the most interesting lessons ever. There's a sense of normalcy around the castle.

Until there's not.

Rowena's class is quiet, save for the incantations they say. She paces the front of her classroom, eyes narrowing slightly, looking for any students who may need a little extra help.

"Well done, Helen," she praises, moving along. "Less elbow, more wrist, Tiberius!"

The door opens, and Rowena looks up, prepared to chastise whatever latecomer has chosen to disrupt her class. The girl tugs anxiously at her dark braid as she bows her head quickly. "Terribly sorry, ma'am."

Rowena recognizes her. Agrippina, a thirteen year old with a knack for Herbology, is one of Helga's favorites. Rowena makes an impatient gesture. "Yes? What is it?"

"It's Professor Gryffindor," Agrippina answers. "He isn't in class. We waited, but he never showed up, so we went to his chambers. Well, _I _didn't! None of the girls did." A deep red blush overtakes her olive skin. "He won't answer."

Rowena bites the inside of her cheek. On one hand, she needs to continue with her lesson. A day without knowledge is a day wasted, and she hates the thought of her children not making the most of their opportunities. On the other, this isn't like Godric at all. He has always been so bold and bright, and she refuses to accept a world where Godric hides away like this, letting his light dim to nothingness.

"We will resume this lesson next week," she says. "Be sure to practice! I will know if you don't."

With that, she moves past Agrippina, ignoring the confused whispers and murmurs behind her. They will undoubtedly think she's gone mad, but it doesn't matter now. Just this once, for the sake of a beloved friend, she can ignore logic in favor of emotion.

A group of boys are still waiting outside Godric's door. "But sir!" Alfric Bones whines. "Who will teach us to duel?"

There's no answer. Rowena imagines whatever conversations have transpired have mostly been one-sided. "Away with you," she calls, making a dismissive gesture. "All of you!"

No one dares to protest. Rowena resists the urge to smile. Her no-nonsense reputation is quite beneficial sometimes. The young boys scatter without having to be told twice.

Rowena purses her lips as she stands in front of the door. She pounds her knuckles against the glossy wood. No answer.

"Remember, dear Godric, I am much more tenacious than these children!" She folds her arms over her chest, smirking. He can't see her, of course, but it doesn't matter. She's certain he can hear it in her tone. "I will not hesitate to open your door myself, courtesy be damned!"

As expected, the door opens. Rowena's still smirking as she heads inside, though the smirk is short-lived. Godric's room is in disarray. If she didn't know any better, she would assume a terrible fight has occurred. As it stands, with Salazar no longer in the castle, no one else is foolish enough to challenge Godric to fight. This was all him; a fight happened, but it was between him and whatever demons are in his head.

Godric stands before his fireplace, angrily tossing things into the flames. The closer Rowena gets, the more defined the smell of alcohol. He's had more than just a goblet of wine at breakfast. Her nose wrinkles, and she steps back.

"Did we not all vow to protect the children in every way possible?" There's no denying the accusation in her tone. "What good are you if you spend your days drowning your sorrows with drink?"

He turns, eyes narrowing at her. Stumbling slightly, he takes a step forward before pausing. His body sways; he seems unable to keep his balance without assistance. "Some of us actually feel things, Rowena," he says, his words slurring. "We can't all be like you."

She winces. "You think I don't feel? Why do you think I'm here, Godric, if not because I care about you?"

He laughs, and the sound is dry and bitter, nothing like the rich, full laugh that once bubbled from his throat. "I know you. You're here because you're worried about the school's reputation." He takes a step forward, only to fall, landing on his knees with a sharp _thud. _"To hell with everything else, as long as your reputation is intact."

A heated retort rests on her tongue, but she swallows it down. This isn't him. Not really. Alcohol has been known to twist good men into monsters. Godric would never behave this way without some sort of dark influence.

"You truly are a fool," she says, turning on her heel and stalking off.

Her next class will be in session soon, but she does not head for her classroom. Instead, she makes her way to the kitchens to have a word with the house-elves. Godric wants to wallow in his misery and hide behind a bottle of spirits, but she will not allow it. From this day forward, she will make sure nothing stronger than milk makes it to his table.

…

It takes less than a day for him to arrive at her chambers. Rowena allows him in, sitting at her desk. Godric takes a seat, wringing his hands together. At first there is only a tense silence. Rowena waits, tapping her foot in hopes of hurrying things along.

Godric sighs heavily, raking his fingers through his wild red hair. "What the hell were you thinking?" he demands, green eyes wide and desperate. "Telling the house-elves to deny me alcohol? That is my alcohol, Rowena!"

"I believe you mean it is your death, dear one," she says calmly.

"Death?" He laughs and shakes his head. Perhaps he truly does believe that he's invincible, that death cannot touch him. "That would be the last thing to ever take me from this world!"

Rowena doesn't answer right away. She swallows dryly before taking a deep, shaky breath. She recalls her beloved brother, wasting away with grief. His departure had only been quickened by the spirits he so eagerly consumed. She will not see Godric meet the same fate.

"I will not argue with you," she says softly. "However, I also will not revoke my command to the house-elves. If you wish to drink yourself into an early grave, you will not do it on my watch!"

"Why should you care?"

The question surprises her. Is it really possible that he is so oblivious? Has he never seen the way she looks at him? Does he not understand that she has always tried to lend him whatever he has needed? She does not have his strength or courage, but she has always been by his side, advising him and balancing out his muscle with her mind.

Of course he would not realize. At the end of the day, she still knows her place as a woman. She knows what is and is not appropriate.

She climbs to her feet, moving closer and resting a hand on his shoulder. She would never dare touch him like this in public where anyone could see. These small moments are affection are meant for closed doors.

"You truly are a foolish little lion," she tells him. "I care about you. Dare I admit that I possibly care more than I should? Perhaps I am selfish in my desire to save you, and I am truly sorry for that."

His eyes meet hers. The frustration has faded, replaced by something softer. His jaw goes slack, and it seems to take him several moments to remember how to speak. "I see."

"Well, that is hardly the response I was hoping for."

"I must go."

And with that, he's on his feet, hurrying from the room. Rowena stares after him, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Perhaps she should not have said anything at all.

…

"I would not worry about it," Helga says kindly as she and Rowena walk along the forest path, collecting herbs and plants as they go. "Perhaps Godric does not know how to respond to such a strong woman."

Rowena resists the urge to roll her eyes. She bites back a reply, kneeling and examining the lush green leaves on a vine. Carefully, she clips them and drops them into her basket.

"I do believe you saved him," Helga tells her as she plucks a toadstool from the ground. "The house-elves say he no longer attempts to obtain his spirits."

She nods but still keeps silent. It has been nearly a week since Godric found his way into her chambers, since she dared to tell him the truth. She hasn't seen him; truth be told, she thinks he may be actively avoiding her. Still, the students talk. She knows he is back in his classroom and teaching. From what she's heard, his heart no longer seems to be in it, but it's a start.

She wonders if she has spoiled everything, if she should have kept quiet and continued to love him from a distance.

"Is everything okay, dear Rowena?" Helga asks.

She smiles, painfully aware of how forced it feels. "I am perfectly fine. Thank you."

Can Helga hear how hollow her reassurance is? If so, she shows no indication of it. Smiling brightly, Helga continues down the path, pausing here and there to add more plants and fungi to her collection. Rowena hesitates, trying to get her thoughts together.

Godric is improving. Helga believes it is Rowena's doing, but Rowena has her doubts. All she knows is that it will never be the same again. Everything is falling apart and so much is changing.

"Are you coming?" Helga calls, well ahead of Rowena.

Rowena climbs to her feet, dusting the dirt from her dress, and follows her friend.

…

"It scares me that you care for me."

Rowena jumps, dropping her quill, when Godric appears in her chambers unannounced. Cheeks burning a deep red, she bends down and plucks the eagle feather from the floor before setting it on her desk. "This is most improper," she says. "Imagine the scandal if someone knew you were here."

Godric grins, and it makes her melt. That is the old Godric slowly shining through. Maybe it's true; maybe she has had a hand in bringing him back.

"I am here to confess my love for you, and here you are, worried about what is proper," he says, his voice light and teasing. "For someone so logical, you are truly absurd."

She opens her mouth to argue but quickly snaps it shut again. _Confess my love for you. _She blinks rapidly and shakes her head, wondering if she's heard him correctly. Perhaps this is a dream and she will wake.

Godric closes the distance between them and takes her hand. "The thought of anyone loving me is terrifying. I know. Brave and bold Gryffindor, afraid of emotion." His lips twitched, forming a faint smile.

"Godric…"

"If not for your love, I might have allowed myself to succumb to the temptation of drink," he tells her, his thumb gently caressing her knuckles. "You offered me the tools with which I could save myself."

In the back of her mind, she knows she should send him away. This is hardly proper, and she is meant to set good examples for the children. It doesn't seem to matter. How can she send him away when all she wants to do is hold him close?

"I am glad to have you back, dearest Godric."

He leans down, kissing her lips with a quick, chaste peck. "I promise to stay," he says. "I will remain by your side until you wish me away."

"Then you shall be with me forever," she says.

His grin is all she needs. "Forever is a long time. I look forward to spending it with you."


End file.
